Liberal—Confused
POLITICALLY, the late Robert Benchley regarded himself as 'a con- fused Liberal,' and it was from this viewpoint that he wrote the inimitable articles and dramatic criticisms which have made him one of the foremost humorists of the century. He approached the' problems of living in an advanced state of bewilderment, and his son, in an admirably objective biography, points out that Mr. Benchley did not have to assume that quality of good-natured fumbling which so endeared him to us; it was innate. By the same token, when he took to the screen to parody, with such exquisite subtlety, the 'little man' in difficulties, he barely had to act.
'The worst reporter, even for his age, in New York City,' he eventually became dramatic critic on Vanity Fair, and with Robert Sherwood and Dorothy Parker turned this organ into the matrix of American wit, for with all his hesitancy he had the courage of his humour and with utmost geniality toed the line nowhere. His very first assignment took him to a play he found so boring he reviewed the programme instead. Intrinsically funny, he never- theless detested being considered a professional funny man, and it was his tragedy that from his youth to his death he was haunted by the idea that he might write something 'really good' some day. It is the familiar comedian-cum-Hamlet story, made sadder by Benchley finally giving up writing altogether because he was sick with himself for having concentrated on trivialities when he should have been writing something worth while. Posterity can be grateful that he had to earn money and that family circumstances forced him to travel 'Through the Alimentary Canal with Gun and Camera' rather than through more sombre territories.
From private papers and diaries, from the memories of those who loved him, and from affectionate filial observation, Nathaniel Benchley has materialised a legend and made glow in the flesh the author of so many immortal idiocies. To any unbelievers he also offers The Benchley Roundup, a selection of his favourites among his father's works. Illustrated by Gluyas Williams, this is the perfect bedside or deck-chair book; for Benchley should be taken in sips, like ambrosia. To those who were brought up on such heavenly fare there are too many sips missing, but the samples proffered have lost none of their flavour with the years.
• VIRGINIA GRAHAM
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